


Arachne

by Ollie_Mor



Series: On the Borderline [4]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Flashbacks, Gen, I made myself cry towards the end there, I've snipped this from OO, Tea, Virgil drinks bathwater spread the word, don't hit me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:56:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28378848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ollie_Mor/pseuds/Ollie_Mor
Summary: The black- or purple-clad side let out a deep sigh upon reappearing in his room. He wasn't green or yellow or blue or red. Virgil was purple... just like his hair. A small smile played upon his lips.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders
Series: On the Borderline [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813171
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Arachne

**Author's Note:**

> I had wanted to snip the end from Overcoming Ostracism ever since I posted it but didn't feel like I could because people would have already read it and I couldn't advertise it as a new installment of the series. Of course, it is way too late, and I'm doing it anyway.
> 
> Since the third chapter is parallel to Ophiuchus and about the same length, I figured it would do best as it's own fanfic. For the sake of integrity (I suppose??), I'm keeping the publication date of this the same as the original chapter so it won't appear to be a new addition.

The black- or _purple-clad_ side let out a deep sigh upon reappearing in his room. He wasn't green or yellow or blue or red. Virgil was purple... just like his hair. A small smile played upon his lips.

Immediately, Virgil's gaze was drawn to the mess of scrap fabric that littered the floor where he had worked on his new jacket. The emo grimaced at the strewn about needles and scraps of thread. Sighing, he walked over and began picking up the stray pieces, motivated purely but the lingering threat of someone entering and finding the mess and stepping on one of the needles and bleeding out- 

Hissing, he was pulled out of his thoughts by the stabbing of a needle into his finger. The emo glared down at the offending object, plucking it from his thumb with his opposite hand; standing from the mess, he walked over to a shelf on the other side of the room to retrieve a band-aid for the small wound. 

"Stupid needle," he muttered, "what a _prick..._ " 

After a few seconds, Virgil chuckled at the ridiculousness of the pun before returning to the task at hand with a freshly bandaged thumb. He'd been spending too much time with Patton.

Truth be told, with a little effort, he could've closed the wound without wrapping it; however, the evidence of his previous attempts to do so was already littered across his hands in the form of tiny scars that would never fade.

_< < A pair of black-gloved hands cradled his own as the owner of them hissed out quiet scolding. "Just wrap them for god's sake." _

_"What? And be like you?"_

_Offence painted the man's features, but the hurt didn't reach his eyes. "You refer to it like such a thing would be a death sentence."_

_"It would."_

_A subtle, gentle smile crossed the other's face. "It's_ **_dreadful_ ** _to know that your blood-letting doesn't dull your wit." >> _

Virgil shook the memory from his head before returning to the task at hand. He didn't need someone telling him to take care of himself. The anxious side was doing just fine on his own. With time, he abandoned his habit of leaving wounds to scar over and found that the pressure from wrapping them grounded him. Nowadays, he'd often take a ribbon or some yarn and wind it around his hand whenever he was bored. 

The emo looked down at the clump of cut-up string he now held in his hand. He tossed it in a shallow box of scrap that he kept for reasons he was unsure of. One day he'd make something out of it, until then, he'd keep the box and his hobby of sewing private. Roman and Patton would try and fail at not being rudely upfront when asking of its purpose, and Logan would call it a fire hazard. 

Picking up handfuls of fabric scraps, he threw those in a different bin, adding a flash of colour to a pile of black and grey. Gingerly, Virgil began gathering the sewing needles that lay scattered, being sure to pay attention this time. Whenever he sewed different sections, he used multiple needles, not committing to any patch until the whole piece was done. This caused many pinpricks to his skin as he handled the projects he worked on, but he couldn't help it. There was a finality to finishing seams and snipping the thread that filled him with dread.

Virgil had never been one to enjoy committing to decisions, and it was awfully inconvenient. The same could be said about his hesitance to leave things undone. Being the embodiment of someone's Anxiety gave him much to be anxious about. 

He remembered being given an actual sewing kit with thimbles when he first started... then a pack of thimbles when it was clear that he wasn't using hand protection... then a pair of gloves and a pleading look.

It was never _easy_ to shrug off those memories, but this time around, Virgil was struggling more than usual. All because of his little stunt...

Or more a snake's reaction to him.

That's how the emo tended to shirk off responsibility: whenever he was faced with his own wrongdoings, he could concentrate on the reactions of others; if Virgil focused on the irrationality of their emotions, it took some of the weight from the guilt he carried.

However, how could he write off Janus' reaction as entirely irrational? He would've done the same thing. Virgil was afraid of being boxed up with no escape, so he had Janus take his place.

Without thinking, he found himself outside of his room, storming into a darker section of Thomas' mind that he avoided like the plague. Despite his brain's insistence that the viper would've pulled the same thing with him, despite Janus' own claim that he'd no longer stand at Virgil's side, despite every shred of common sense that hid underneath his panic, the patchworked emo left his room with no greater motivation than to find the liar.

Which he did, rather quickly. Unexpectedly, the snake was in the living room, sitting at the coffee table and drinking tea. Sitting beside the tea set was the liar's golden mask that covered half his face. In the brief moment that the anxious side stood there, unnoticed, he saw the look of contempt the duplicitous side stared at the costume piece with.

"Oh! Virgil, come in, come in."

The emo stiffened, shooting the liar a questioning look. He'd expected to be yelled at to get out. However, was that really the response he anticipated from _Janus_ or was that just what he knew _he_ would say?

"Have a seat!" the serpentine side sing-songed. "Would you like a... cup of tea?" the snake asked coyly, holding up a cup for emphasis. 

"I hate tea." 

"No, you don't," Janus deadpanned, setting the teacup down and grabbing the teapot at his side to fill it up. " ** _No one_** hates tea. That is sacrilege. At best, you could be indifferent to tea, and I don't interact with those degenerates."

"Then, what d'ya know, I'm indifferent to tea."

The snake glanced up with an amused glint in his eye as he held up the now filled teacup for the emo to take.

Virgil rolled his eyes and accepted the drink. "Tea is just... hot leaf water," he claimed, sitting on the sofa across from the snake.

Janus didn't dignify his judgement with a response; instead, he took a long sip of his tea, staring at the anxious side from over the rim of his cup.

Put off by the other's capitulation to his insult, he continued: "It's basically drinking leafy bathwater."

This time, the snake snorted. "You say this as if you have experience with such things. **_I can't believe that Virgil Sanders drinks bathwater._** "

The side in question rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of the accusation. "Tch! I don't- why would I- _what the hell?"_

The liar laughed uproariously at his embarrassment.

The emo hadn't heard Janus laugh so unrestrainedly since before he left... all he was greeted now with were laughs tainted with bitterness and frustration or maniacal chuckling.

"It is questionable why Goody Sanders is so attached to you," the snake hissed out after using all his breath.

Virgil scoffed at the title. 

Janus smirked and continued his tirade: "I mean, you sound like a dreadful roommate. Worse than Remus, perhaps." 

Doubtful. 

"Just imagine all those uncomfortable interactions you must have - **_well, you need not to, you have experienced them firsthand_** \- but picture this: you're sitting in the commons with a warm mug on the couch and Logan walks in. He asks you:" Janus set down his cup before training his face into a stoic expression, his voice mimicking the logical side as he continued: "' _Oh, Virgil, it's a surprise to see you out here amongst the living, what are you drinking?'_ \- and you respond eloquently:" the liar's face twisted into one of indignation as he proceeded in an impression of the emo: "' _Bathwater.'_ "

Virgil slammed down his cup, a hand flying over his mouth to keep himself from laughing. Narrowly avoiding choking on the tea, he glared at the snake and shot back: "God, do you ever stop? Can you not?"

The serpentine side's lips quirked up for a moment before smoothing out into a neutral expression as he lifted his teacup back to his lips. " ** _Au contraire, I don't believe I can._** "

"You're such... you're such a prick..." the anxious side grunted, taking another sip of his tea.

"Okay, kettle."

"What?"

" ** _Oh, nothing. Nothing at all for you to worry your little anxious brain about._** " Janus' tone screamed to Virgil that, if he'd been sitting closer, the snake would have flicked his forehead or ruffled his hair.

The emo shot the liar a hateful look that went ignored. Their back and forth fell away, being replaced by silence. For a while, they sat just like that, not talking or anything, just quietly sipping tea at the coffee table. Despite the familiarity, the anxious side couldn't find it within himself to relax. It had been so long since he had tea and just... existed beside someone. Patton would initiate conversation, and Virgil would be expected to respond; otherwise, he was met with fatherly concern. Logan was much more lenient regarding Virgil's contributions, but he always prepared decaf for Virgil instead. Roman would talk his ear off, and until recently, he felt pressured to give snarky remarks to everything that came out of the prince's mouth. 

"Hey," he blurted, immediately regretting breaking the silence when the snake's eyes were on him, "what- what was all that?"

"Whatever do you mean, Virgil?"

He had no idea what he meant. "It... you... changing just like everyone else. What was that for? I know you were just doing that for their trust!" 

That earned him a raised eyebrow. "Looks like you answered your own question rather quickly. Incorrectly as well." When Virgil didn't respond, the liar sighed and continued: "If their trust were so easily won over, one would think that you'd have little ammunition for all those fears of losing it."

"Don't."

The snake's gaze was so cold that Virgil wished he could look away. He didn't, unwilling to give Janus the chance to strike. "Fine, we don't have to discuss your evident flaws. You can continue badgering me about my intentions. Starting with asking why I'd dare change my clothes if everyone else ended up going along with it anyway."

"If the others-"

"-jumped off a cliff, would I too?" Janus scoffed at the predictable question. " ** _Of course, I would._** And your comparison **_definitely_** holds up since I **_wasn't_** the first to change my attire.I **_can_** see the correlation between an action that is entirely harmful and one that is not ** _._** A change of clothes, a change of shade, **_it's just the same_** as flinging yourself to your death."

"You never do anything without some goal in mind," the emo grunted.

"I had a goal, it was to change my clothes, isn't that quaint?" the snake asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "The mask was getting old, wasn't it? Oh, so _tacky..._ gold is better used for accents."

"You kept the mask on," Virgil countered with suspicion.

" ** _No, I didn't,_** " the duplicitous side lied. Janus stared down into his teacup with mismatched eyes, and Virgil chose not to focus on the wistfulness of his expression. " ** _I've never worn that mask in my life, Virge,_** " the snake flippantly remarked, resentment tinting his words.

"Cut it with the sarcasm."

The liar pouted. "You know I can't help it."

"You know what? I don't think I do."

"Well, best start now! The others have **_certainly_** learned to adjust to my speech patterns."

Bitterness oozed from those words because they absolutely hadn't. However, Virgil didn't allow a trace of empathy to cross his face; instead, he scowled as the snake took a long sip of his tea. 

The serpentine side grimaced down at his cup as if the drink inside had personally offended him. With a third hand, he lifted the teapot and poured himself more tea. Then, he glanced up at his ex-ally with the gaze of a predator. "Do enlighten me, Virgil-"

"You don't get to call me that."

The duplicitous side rolled his eyes. "Your name?"

Virgil didn't speak. Instead, he stared at the side across from him as if a glare would get his point across. What was that point, exactly? Not even he knew.

The liar didn't catch on - because how was he expected to? - and settled for the same teasing he always inflicted upon the emo when he told him off for saying his name. "Then you would rather be called-"

"Don't."

" _-Anxiety?_ "

There was no inaccuracy to the title like there was for Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. Anxiety encompassed what he was... however, coming from the mouth of a viper? It sounded like a scathing insult. "...no. Just don't talk to me."

That brought a grin to the other side's lips. "Now, that is a request I can't follow through on! Come now, Virgil-"

The anxious side groaned.

"-enlighten me. Why is it that change disturbs you so? Aren't you the one who wanted to leave behind those times? Isn't it relieving to find that the people you've left behind are changing, too?"

" _Don't._ "

Virgil spotted a spark of hesitation in Janus' eyes, but the liar carried on despite it. " _Or_ are you scared of being tempted by the twisted snake to fall back to the _dark side_ the longer I stick around? After all, how great can your effort to change for the better be if the **_monster_** you left behind can play the same game?"

"Janus, _stop,_ " the patchworked side pleaded.

The snake shut his mouth.

With the silence back in place, Virgil took in a breath he hadn't been aware he was denying himself. He tried to focus on counting out his breath, but he kept losing count. Just then, a rhythmic tapping disturbed his distress, and he followed along with the beat. 

When his breathing returned to normal, the emo opened his eyes, unaware of when they had slipped closed, and glanced down at the gloved hand that slowly ceased its tapping. His gaze darted up at the liar's face, biting the inside of his cheek and briefly pondering a _"thank you."_

Janus' head subtly tilted down: an acknowledgement. 

The anxious side let out a sigh, leaving his gratitude unspoken. One of his hands shot up to play with his hoodie's drawstrings. "It was all true, wasn't it?"

"About your effort being insignificant..." It wasn't a question to clarify what Virgil meant, but rather a distinction made to assure the emo that the snake had surmised what he was asking. "I was only telling you what you felt," Janus answered, standing from the sofa and lifting the tray the tea set sat upon with one hand, "It was your personal truth, but that doesn't make it a reality."

The anxious side stood as well. " _Was_ it a reality, though?"

"Virgil." That damn look that the viper always gave him when he asked questions like this was plastered across his face: an expression of expectation and muted disappointment.

"Tell me!" the patchworked side snapped.

"No," the serpentine side declined. "Now, if you'd please release me..."

Virgil glanced down at his ironclad grip on the liar's wrist. He'd grabbed him on instinct. It wasn't... his fault. With a deep breath, he loosened his hold, and Janus slowly retracted his hand.

Rubbing his wrist, the snake regarded the emo with a sharp look before turning to leave.

Virgil stared after the liar as he went to leave the room. Any comfort Janus' words were meant to bring was overshadowed by the persistent voice in his head yelling at him to apologize, to get mad, to keep the duplicitous side in the room. He'd had the same urge during that whole mess with sorting hats and houses. In the end, Virgil felt more secure only after he dragged the snake out of his own comfort zone.

His eyes darted down at the coffee table and spotted the snake's mask. "Hey!"

Janus paused in the doorway. 

"You left your mask on the table."

The liar glanced over his shoulder with an affronted gaze giving the emo a view of his snake-like features. It took Virgil a moment to realize that the ophidian iris was regarding the costume piece rather than himself. Then, in contrast to the disparaging glint directed at the phantom mask, a small smile tugged at the snake's lips. "Ah, yes..." he spoke, his voice light and airy, " ** _I had almost forgotten._** "

With that, Janus left Virgil to ponder what the hell that could have meant. 

Instead, the emo slumped back down onto the couch, the conversation replaying at the forefront of his mind. When he wanted to say sorry for singling the snake out, he instead accused the man of manipulation tactics. When he should've thanked the other for his help, he accepted the first excuse he was given not to. 

No matter what he told himself regarding Janus, his actions during today's episode were cruel... 

The others would never understand if he brought it up with them. They wouldn't hold him accountable for any of the questionable shit he pulled because they were still tiptoeing carefully around his insecurities. They didn't know that that behaviour only made him feel worse.

Only Janus understood. 

Thomas and the others were confused, maybe even upset, when the serpentine side stormed out of the discussion fuming. Their intent was to be _inclusive,_ and none of them used the traits of the Hogwarts houses to _directly_ insult Janus... but that was almost worse. 

_"While many individuals find reprieve in witnessing or aiding in the alienation of someone else from their group, the activity is unhealthy and may not be the ideal solution to Virgil's worries."_

Virgil invited his friends to throw Janus in a cage and tell him how grateful he should be that he _fit._

The thought apparently overwhelms him. When he sighs, his eyes cloud, and before he knows it, tears are freely streaming down his face. Quickly, he sinks down and reappears in his room. Virgil makes no attempt to wipe them away and instead sits on his bed and wonders why. Why is he crying, and why doesn't it hurt? Why is his mind devoid of thought, but his eyes full of tears? Why, why, why?

He scrunched his eyes closed, and more tears fell. He laid back, sniffling as he glared up at the ceiling. The action brought even more tears, causing him to roll over onto his side. What was he getting so worked up for?

Ah.

**"' _...how great can your effort to change for the better be if the... monster you left behind can play the same game?'_ " **he quotes, slipping into his Tempest Tongue despite himself. The emo bit his lip as more tears came in waves.

Looking back on it, Virgil should apologize, but he doesn't.


End file.
